The Kings of the East: A Romance of the Near FutureGrier, Sydney C.
Science
The Kings of the East: A Romance of the Near Future
Grier, Sydney C.
Palestine -- Fiction; Political fiction; Speculative fiction; Zionism -- Fiction
“But I care. I want every one to recognise, as I do, how great you
are. It hurts me when they show me all kinds of honour because I
happen to wear a crown, and leave you in the background, when every
man there ought to be on his knees before you. You pretend not to feel
it, for my sake, but I know you do. It makes me tingle with shame.
When we are married, I shall be only your wife and nothing else, and
no one shall put me before you.”
“Then I hope for both our sakes that the Emperor Sigismund will not
pay another visit to Palestine--during our reign, at any rate.” Cyril
smiled rather unsteadily.
“As if I cared for him, or anything he could say! Cyril, I want you to
bring your brother and his family to dine with me to-night, if they
arrive in time. Your relations are to be mine, and I want to know them
all--the little girl whom Michael loves, and the rest as well. It
shall be purely a family party. I remember your sister-in-law, she had
such a beautiful face, and your brother looked so thoroughly
English--so reliable. Do you think they will be willing to love me?”
“Madame, it doesn’t become your Majesty to fish for compliments. Your
commands shall be obeyed,” and Cyril bowed himself out of her presence
backwards in the orthodox manner.
Whether the Queen’s anxiety was real or not, it proved to be wholly
unnecessary. Her guests that evening took her to their hearts with one
accord. She was so beautiful, so gracious, so devoted to Cyril, that,
to use their own expression, Usk and Philippa “simply grovelled” at
her feet from the first moment they saw her. It was no more possible
that she had ill-treated Cyril than that he had ill-treated her, and
Philippa fell back on the theory of a misunderstanding, for which both
might perhaps be slightly to blame, but no more. Her parents took an
equal delight in the reconciliation, for they knew, as Philippa could
not know, the true story of the long waiting-time during which the
Queen’s hair had grown grey, and of the broken engagement which had
made such a grievous blank in her life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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